Orphan At The Edge Of The World 117 Crawling Chaos 15

The enrichment of concepts that allowed the elementals as well as the more complete status of the fairies were one clue denoting some boundary item consumption. That was complemented by an increase in 'realness' that wasn't drastic but far from insignificant. A few yes/ no style inquiries directed at the bracelet indicated that it had taken some things suitable to cultivators but not useful to anyone else. A few more allowed Orison to piece together that Herne had taken a good chunk as 'dowry' for Flora. He wanted to get mad but the girl did rope someone into rescuing him and Herne hadn't really done anything that wrong, at least in the dubious weakly positive opinion of the bracelet that couldn't really talk.

Orison thought to himself, "Even if I did storm up there for an accounting, I don't even know what was taken and I'd definitely destroy goodwill in the process of trying to figure it out. I don't like it but it is what it is, I guess... Mythology around the world depicts fey as capricious and alien minded. I should probably feel grateful I was left with anything when I came out."

One look at the eternium formation and over doubled strength of his soul, Orison knew that Herne's 't.i.the' hadn't been a small thing. He could even feel a slow strengthening of his body, delayed due to circ.u.mstance, taking place. He had no doubts that the hunter would have helped himself generously but all Orison could do was absorb the lesson and take future precautions.

While contemplating how much of his current gains had come from Herne's t.i.thes, Orison considered another t.i.the that was overdue for a draw. There was a possibility of nothing happening but there was also some inherent danger. His curiosity was burning but it didn't seem like a good time to scratch that particular lottery ticket. He at least wanted to take some precautions first.

"So what do you think? Any of that give you some ideas on what kinda juju you can whistle up for me?" Jimmy said, mildly hopeful.

Orison resisted the urge to laugh. Reading between the lines, the guy wasn't overly bright but was a decent person. Without the crus.h.i.+ng mountain of insecurities, he'd be able to make it into the world just fine and have a fair shot at all the underlying desires the far less realistic ones had sprang from.

The young mage said, "Well, I'm really not a jinn. I'm not a devil that can conjure things like musical talent out of thin air, either, even if you were willing to sell your soul for them, which I'm glad you're not. That would be a sh*t trade.

"I'm kinda big on treating people how I'd like to be treated so I won't be making any girl you want fall in love with you... Wait, alright. I'm about to get to the good part... I don't have 'snap of the finger' ways to help you get much of your wants but this is what I can do. I can make some special medicine that will make you healthier and by proxy, more desirable. It's got some other positive side-effects that means you have to keep it to yourself...

"If your granny's dying or some other such inevitable emergency, feel free to reach out to me if you can. If you ever spill a word, I won't do a single thing for you. I'll even treat you like a nut job in front of others and possibly do some bad things privately. If you can accept that, then that's one down.

"If you give me a little time, I can probably throw some cash at you too. Not some ridiculous amount but enough to give a leg up. Wealth is just a means to an end. If you don't have a solid goal, even large amounts of wealth can disappear after awhile and you still won't have much to show for it."

Disappointed, Jimmy said, "I was expecting, I don't know, something more magical. If it was something I could DO, not just have, that would be so cool."

Raising an eyebrow, Orison said, "Do you want power? I might be able to awaken some gift in you but I warn you, that side of things distances you from the world as you know it. The more power you have, the more distant you become. It's trading one set of problems for a whole new set you have no experience dealing with. Ultimately, you might have to leave all you knew behind to keep it safe or because you're forced to. Look at me. I was trapped in a crack of reality for nine years.. Sh*t like that happens."

Looking thoughtful, which also looked somewhat painful for some reason, Jimmy said, "Couldn't it be just a touch of something? Like some little knack that could be played off as a trick? Maybe it could be small but boss."

Quickly running options through his head, Orison did think of one thing. It carried a little potential long term danger to longevity but it was fairly safe otherwise. More importantly, it was a good experiment with little chance of harm Orison couldn't help fix.

The young mage nodded. "A little magic with a little risk is doable but it's more of a try with a decent chance of success rather than a definite guarantee."

The guy nearly jumped out of his skin in excitement and babbled all kinds of nonsense that Orison let run in one ear and out the other. Once Jimmy had calmed down some, he explained what it was he was going to do and ran through all the potential use and cautions he could think of. As complicated as pulling it off was, it really just boiled down to tying off a minimized, streamlined summon model to Jimmy's soul. It took nearly all his 'know how', sub-mind guidance and observation of Prime t.i.tania mixed with Herne's transfer of Flora's anchor line to be possible.

When the anchor line from the model sunk into Jimmy's soul, Orison had to m.u.f.fle the man's mouth with a pillow as Jimmy screamed and weakly flailed around. And as the model transitioned from theoretical to actually existing, Orison removed a small pinch of mud from below the vital essence 'water' on his inner plane and used that to cover a single mote of condensed eternium before placing it into the partially summoned ent.i.ty. The flash of excess energy and vital force the model couldn't contain was filtered through it and into Jimmy. Needless to say, the man was out for the night.

Since it would be morning before the end result was observable, Orison called it a night too. The next day was going to be exhausting if not eventful. The young mage hoped it wouldn't be painful.

As soon as Orison's trance ended, he slipped into a round of meditation and a round of training, skipping the few parts that might be disruptive. After cleaning up, Orison took inventory of the large handful of items that came from the capsule no one had wanted, since that was all that was left. All of it was boundary items but none of it had even the slightest sign of supernatural quality. Having some heart, Herne had left a little vulgar wealth in the form of a few pieces of gaudy jewelry and random knickknacks.

Flung to the far corners of Orison's s.p.a.ce, where it was hard to look at directly, the young mage's sub-mind revealed a couple of hidden things and a piece of compacted five color soil in the shape of a dog's jawbone. Orison wiped a tear from his eye as he tried desperately to hold in his laughter. Poor Nibbles had chewed on the capsule one too many times and had gotten himself blown up. It wouldn't have killed the creature because its true core was in Herne's shadow but Nibbles was most definitely traumatized. The mustard seed bracelet's growing displeasure over what must have been a fairly traumatic event for it as well, sobered Orison up.

Of the two remaining items, one was a small box the size and shape of a reading gla.s.ses case made of some unknown metallic material. Resting inside were three black pearls. On the inside of the upper lid was a scratched out company logo with a description of the product in the case. Apparently the three black pearls were TSSRR or 'Teaser' suits.

Ignoring up-sell and a small advertis.e.m.e.nt for more expensive versions, the young mage read what little relevant information there was on the Tactical Self-repairing, s.p.a.ce ready suit. One was labeled 'Wise', boasting enhanced functionality for casters and, reading between the lines, c.r.a.ppy anything else. One was labeled 'Bold' which boasted enhanced strength and durability. The last was labeled 'Swift' which was a lighter, streamlined version of the second with some of the increased flexibility features of the first.

Shrugging, Orison picked up 'Swift'. As soon as he did so, the other two pearls merged with it. He was a little disappointed thinking he had two others and wanted to try them all to see which one he wanted more but that choice was no longer available. While he tried to figure out what he was supposed to do next, the pearl liquefied in his hand and started creeping all over the place. He didn't panic until his sight was covered but that only lasted for a moment before he could see through a cleared spot in the helmet that had formed around his head.

It took him nearly an hour to figure out how to get the helmet retracted and another few minutes to retract the whole suit. Unlike the helmet, which required three quick taps on the temple, the suit required a verbal command which was recorded while Orison was looking over the case for more instructions. His suit would respond to 'zero f***s given', a running commentary about poor posting of instructions. For the same reason as the strange command to retract, the reactivation place for the suit was close to his left armpit where he had been tucking his right hand as part of his subconscious thinking pose.

Reactivating the suit and retracting the helmet, Orison put his over robe on. Looking himself over in the bathroom mirror, he came to the conclusion that as long as he had the robe on, the overly form fitting nature of it wasn't that embarra.s.sing and toned it down from outlandish to just a little eccentric. He thought the slight magnetism of the stag pin to the circle spot on his chest was a nice touch until he realized it was a 'custom enchantment' slot that was copying over whatever supernatural property the pin had he wasn't even aware of.

Once it was finished copying, Orison activated it but only found himself slightly more emotional, timid and afraid feeling. He realized it was because his sub-mind was a.n.a.lyzing the second item that had been hiding in his s.p.a.ce's fringe area. The silver ring with a ruby looking gem setting looked a lot like a cla.s.s ring but with somewhat arabesque writing on the sides along with a intricate seal carved into the mirror s.h.i.+ne surface of the stone.

The ring was a hazily self aware conduit with s.p.a.cial properties. Orison had a feeling that before other items had been selected to be chowed down by his s.p.a.ce first, it have been on the cutting board until his s.p.a.ce rejected it due to structure poison. Whatever magic principles used to create it or make use of it, they relied on something ant.i.thetical to concepts that had been internalized by him. It didn't take him long to understand what that was either.

His 'summoning' made a type of thought form that grew into its own. This thing relied on a principle that brought a specific formed spiritual ent.i.ty from somewhere else and bound it to service. It was an unwilling servant that would likely rebel or revenge at the slightest opportunity. Even if he could easily switch out concepts, there's no way he'd trade his understanding for something that sketchy.

The reason why he could figure that out so easy was because the ring was holding one. Deep inside the extrdimensional s.p.a.ce of the stone was a somewhat demonic looking man with fire for hair and a surly disposition didn't even cover the expression it wore. By process of elimination, Orison figured it was either a powerful abyssal denizen or an actual Jinn. He wasn't even that sure if the difference mattered. After all, both had the ability to shape supernatural forces in strange and wondrous/ terrifying ways. It was more a matter of HOW they would screw over the person trying to use them.

Unwilling to lose control over the dubious ring, Orison reached a tendril of will into his s.p.a.ce and tried to communicate with the ent.i.ty inside. "Hey, how goes?"

It must have worked because the 'fiery' tempered man went ballistic for a good few minutes before it calmed down enough to growl out, "What do you want? I'm not a d.a.m.n wish granter. I'm an ifrit for f*** sake!"

Orison kept an even temperament. "Look, before I figure out a way to let you go safely I've got a question for you. Do you know-"

The young mage described the fire haired woman he had accidentally freed from the desert tower. Suspicious, the somewhat demonic looking man asked why he was interested. Orison explained how he let the lady go and vaguely how he had done it. Despite coincidence and circ.u.mstance, the similarly fire haired guy had no idea but guessed that the ring he was trapped in might have had something to do with it.

"So how does this thing usually work? I kinda need to know that before I can cheat it. Before you get all suspicious again, I can oath that I don't have any motive other than freeing you in a way that doesn't endanger anyone else... I'm not going to judge you based off of reputation but you can't blame me for taking reasonable precautions either," Orison said.

The ifrit weighed the young mage's words carefully and said, "It's easier for Jinn. Just make your wish and then they go back... We usually have to play bodyguards and builders, real grunt work."

Orison sighed. "What's the payoff? The ring needs something and I doubt you walk away completely empty handed. That's not how the rules work. Powerful magic has big costs."

The Ifrit dithered around the issue for awhile before Orison could get the full story. Whether it was a wish or a period of servitude, the ring required fueling from the wearer and the Jinn or Ifrit had claim to the soul or part of it, among other things, depending on the guile of the ent.i.ty and the foolishness of the controller. In the end, it was a pact of mutual distrust and exploitation.

To satisfy the preexisting conditions enforced by the ring, Orison offered an 'at will' employment contract with advance pay of a condensed eternium mote and a drop of vitality water. Dense greed burned behind the ifrit's eyes but the very moment it made a move on Orison, the contract would force it back 'home'. The young mage didn't think for a second that the flame headed man held a lick of grat.i.tude but Orison wanted it out of the ring for other reasons.

Divested of a power source and isolated in his s.p.a.ce, Orison made quick work of pressing the conduit into his service. Once his, the seventy-two sesame seed ruby chips that acted like small storage chests were quickly emptied. That wasn't really saying much. Most of them were already pretty empty to begin with.

The OCD magi who had created the ring had no real desire for anything but achieving greater heights of power at any cost. Despite the insinuation of insanity, the man was an erudite scholar and Orison found himself with a small personal library's worth of books... that he couldn't read. That would change.

It would take time for the hazy consciousness to teach what it knew but it possessed all the theoretical knowledge that was necessary to create the ring. That would in turn lead to a cipher. The cipher would lead to being able to read the books and Orison was heartily glad that he could leave his sub-mind to do it.

Of the remaining bounty, over 90% was related to enchanting. The vast bulk of that had long since spoiled or returned to dust due to being originally biological in nature. The surviving handful was good stuff, though, at least what could be identified. There was even a portable alchemy set that hadn't seen much use. It wasn't in a style that Orison readily identified with but common sense and a moderate amount of acc.u.mulated knowledge could fill in the gaps.

It would have been nice if he could trust the handy, storage friendly ring to stay with him since it would save a lot of trouble with avoiding excess intake of inert essence but there was no doubt the ring would run first chance it got. The thing was terrified of him and had every reason to be. Orison would feel bad about it but the ring was no good thing and even the consciousness within, though fearfully obedient, was no good thing either.

With internal issues handled, Orison prepared to tackle his to-do list for the day. When he swung his attention to the real world, he immediately noticed that the ifrit was still in the apartment. Not only that, but it was raiding Jimmy's fridge and cupboards, one hand alternating between a second can of beer and an almost empty bag of pretzels.

In a quiet but frenzied voice, Orison said, "What the f*** are you still doing here!?"